The Fortune Switch
by gumcrunch
Summary: What happens when The Cavalry switches worlds with The Soldier from the Mountains? Mostly The Bus and The Army confusion. *Involves all characters on the show and in the movie*
1. Prologue: Cookies

"Mmf guhrt cuhkersh!"

Fitz waltzed into the lounge with a platter in his hand and a cookie jammed in his mouth. Coulson looked up from the Monopoly board, as did everyone else.

"Where did those come from?"

"They were from the interrogation today," May smirked and laid back on the couch. "The scout kid didn't want to have any."

"What? No way!" Skye exclaimed in disbelief as she reached for a cookie. "You bake? That is _un_real!"

Simmons clapped her hands in glee and took one as well. Ward looked skeptical, eyebrows raised when Jemma passed him the platter, but there was no way he was not going to take the opportunity to try this. He took a cookie but kept his eyes on May, clearly displaying how suspicious he was. May snorted in amusement.

"Dumb kid. He doesn't know how good you make chocolate chip," Coulson got the second-to-the-last one and placed the platter on the coffee table. "Are these—"

Fitz's coughing interrupted Coulson. He opened and closed his mouth repeatedly, gagging as he pointed and tried to reach for something at the back of his throat. The three younger agents looked alarmed, especially Simmons who immediately dropped the cookie on the platter and rushed to Fitz's side.

"—fortune chocolate chip…" Coulson continued quietly, even though he already knew the answer to his question.

"They are not supposed to be eaten," May said flatly as Fitz pulled out a white strip of paper from his mouth.

"Who puts fortunes in chocolate chip cookies?!" Skye cried out.

"May does," Coulson smiled at her calmly.

"Well, we could have at least been warned earlier before I ate one and almost choked to my death!" Fitz was wide-eyed and shaking, waving the soiled strip of paper in the air as he ranted. It had a little chomp mark on one of its ends. "Bloody cookie, I thought it was suitable for eating," his tone had gotten quieter as he licked the crumbs off his fingers.

"It's okay, Fitz," Jemma soothed him as she rubbed his back.

Ward now had an amused look on his face. "I knew there was something to this."

He broke the cookie in half, careful not to tear the strip of paper in the middle. Skye followed him, as did Coulson. Simmons soon stopped rubbing Fitz's back and reached over to take her cookie back.

"_For you, the day I graced your village was the most important day of your life. But for me, it was a Tuesday_," Skye read monotonously. "Whaaat? That's not even a fortune!" She pouted and crossed her arms.

"_Say 'hello' to my little friend_," Ward cocked an eyebrow and looked at May, trying to hide a meaningful smirk. He pulled the strip out and popped the half into his mouth. "Mmm. Very good cookie."

May rolled her eyes.

"Frankenstein, 1931!" Coulson snapped his fingers and looked towards May for affirmation. "_It's alive, it's alive_, right?"

She smiled at him and nodded. "That is correct."

"Oh, alright! My turn!" Simmons exclaimed excitedly. "_Yes. A thousand times yes_," she read the line quite dramatically, eyes gleaming and putting her hand on her chest, before suddenly changing her expression. "Hmm… I don't believe I've seen that one."

"Er—Pride and Prejudice," Skye snickered as she rolled the dice. "You watch that movie almost every-"

"Alright! I believe Fitz has not read his… yet," Simmons cut in before Skye could finish her sentence.

Fitz cleared his throat. "_Do or do not. There is no try_," he spoke with a weird accent and looked up, expecting applause. "I do a great Yoda, don't I?"

Simmons led the rest of them to feign agreement. She didn't want him to get upset after almost choking. Fitz got the hint.

"Liars. I do a terrible Yoda," he muttered softly and bit into his cookie.

"Last one's yours, May," Coulson handed her the platter.

May stood up. "I already know what it says."

She looked at them with a faint smile. "I'm going to bed. Early call time tomorrow."

She turned and made her way to the cockpit, leaving all the others watching after her.

Skye reached for the cookie and broke it in half. She pulled the paper out and read the writing aloud.

"_My little baby's all grown up and saving China._"

Fitz took the paperless cookie from Skye's hand and popped it in his mouth. He looked at her then at Simmons, before the three of them spoke in unison.

"Mulan, '98."


	2. Chapter 1: The Morning After

Melinda May's eyes shot open.

The last memory she remembered having was passing by the bar for Jack before crashing in the cockpit for the night. By the way her head was throbbing at the moment, she figured she must have consumed a fair share of the bottle before dozing off. She groaned. The sour, almost rancid, liquid curdling in her stomach threatened severe vomiting within the next few minutes. Sitting up, she crossed both arms across her abdomen to hug herself, rocking back and forth. The gentle motion seemed to help calm her insides and soon enough, she felt herself being pulled back to sleepy stupor. She struggled to stay awake, if only to make sure the risk of vomiting was completely gone. She let her eyes wander around the room.

It may have been well past dawn, she thought. Sunlight was already sifting through the folds of the tent, even though the chill indicated it was still much too early for her to be awake. And it was _very_ chilly. She could feel the dew from the grass seeping into the thin sheet of her raggedy sleeping mat. Her slightly thicker blanket could only do so much to keep her from shivering, and her thin cotton pajamas didn't seem to help a lot either. She coughed a little, and briskly rubbed her hands against the upper part of her arms for warmth. Feeling a bit better, though now very cold and very sleepy again, she pulled the blanket over her head and curled underneath it, as she began to fall back to sleep.

And then it hit her.

'_Why the hell am I in a tent?_'

The thought struck like lightning. She jolted up, just as she felt something perch on her shoulder from on top of the blanket. Her eyes immediately went to the small, red, reptile-looking creature in front of her. Its eyes were abnormally huge and its mouth, more so. It seemed to be smiling at her.

"Hey, hey! Good morning, sleeping beauty!" the little red creature exclaimed in Chinese. It seemed to be talking to her.

"Thought I'd have a hard time waking you up after last night, but look at you! Oh, just look at you!"

It squeezed her nose between two of its red finger-looking… '_finger-claws?_' The fact that she's not even sure what this talking animal was, confused her too much to even think about what its body parts were called. _Oh shit, it fucking talks! _

"You're just too excited for this gig, aren't you? That's right! Can't wait to go on out there and show 'em who's boss, can you? That's my tough girl! Come on, get your clothes on! Get ready! Got breakfast for you!"

The creature hopped on her knee, wearing a white apron with pink lace and carrying a bowl filled with something.

"Look, you get porridge!"

Two sunny side-ups and a strip of bacon were sitting on top of the white goo in the bowl, arranged like a face.

"And it's happy to see you!"

A blue insect with a disturbingly disproportional head popped up from underneath the goo. The red little reptile flicked it out with the chopsticks.

"Hey, get out of there! You gon' make people sick!"

"What the hell?" Melinda May muttered under her breath.

"No time to—"

She brushed the red creature off her knee before it could chopstick-shove porridge and eggs into her mouth. She stood up, confused out of her mind. This had to be a dream, she thought. A silly, childish, completely impossible dream made up by her Jack Daniels-swimming mind.

She pinched her arm repeatedly. Everything was still not going away.

"What the fuck is going on?" she muttered again, her eyes darting around to take in her surroundings.

"Girl, what language you speaking? You starting to freak me out," the reptile exclaimed in traditional slang Mandarin, wiping porridge off its flimsy body.

May tried to rationalize what was going on. She inhaled and collected her thoughts. It had never been hard for her to stay calm under pressing situations, and yet, there was something about this moment that rattled her too far out of her wits. She was in a tent with two weird animals, one of which was speaking- or rather, blathering at an abnormally rapid pace- in ancient colloquial Chinese. Everything looked flat. Like everything had been… drawn. She covered her face with her hands for a second, then ran it through her hair. She froze. The ends of her locks were frayed and uneven, like it had been cut by a blade of some kind, and barely brushing over her shoulders. Too short for her liking. This might have just slipped completely out of her control.

And there seemed to be no getting back into it. Pinching was not helping, so she resorted to the next best option. She slapped one hard across her own face. The red creature jumped on her chest, cupping her cheek with one of its paws and holding out the other, as if to stop her from slapping herself again.

"Girl, have you lost your mind? What is going on wit'you? Hurtin' yourself like you some kind o' crazy-"

A grunting noise came from outside the tent. It was a horse, and it seemed to be telling them something. The red creature shot it a look.

"What do you mean the troops just left?"

May remained frozen where she was, still not able to wrap her head around everything that was going on. The little red talking lizard, meanwhile, had already tied her hair up in a bun and was now draping the uniform on her. Then, she realised—

"Mu—Mushu?"

She said it in a whisper, but the reptile caught her saying his name.

"Yeah, sweetie, I'm right here. We gon' get you ready in a sec—"

"Am I… in Mulan?"

"Honey, what you talkin' about? You _are _Mulan!"

Mushu beamed so close to her face, wide and toothy in excitement.

And then, May saw it in his eyes. She saw her reflection.

"No, it can't be—" she could feel herself shaking.

_"I can't be fucking 2-D!"_

* * *

"No, no! Don't come nearer," Coulson held his arm out behind him, stopping Skye and Fitz-Simmons from walking any further towards the cockpit. Ward was standing beside him in the narrow doorway with an extremely worried expression on his face. The fact that he was not even trying to mask his concern confirmed the gravity of the situation to the three younger agents. There was just enough space between the two men for Skye, Fitz, and Simmons to peek at what was going on, though.

Melinda May was hugging her knees to her chest, curled against the corner between the left wall of the room and the back of the pilot's seat. To say the look in her eyes was terrified was an absolute understatement. She was so uncharacteristically petrified, it was scary. It was like they were all staring at someone who was not… May.

"Tell her everything's fine and that we're not going to hurt her," Coulson told Ward, trying very hard to hide his panic beneath a low, calm voice.

His statement confirmed what the three were thinking. This woman was not May.

Ward nodded at Coulson, and started talking in what seemed to be—

"Chinese?" Skye asked Fitz-Simmons, as quietly as she could.

The other two nodded and shifted their attention back.

"_We are friends. We are not going to hurt you. It's fine. Everything's okay_," Ward said, a little unsure if the language rolled off him exactly as he wanted it to. He took a step towards her, but stepped back when she flinched and shuddered in terror.

"_Please—please don't be scared. I am not going to hurt you_," he crouched down so that he was at her eye-level and smiled gently as she looked up at him. _"My name is _Grant Ward_. What's yours?_"

She looked at him, a little less frightened but still very unsure, then raised her eyes towards Coulson and the other three gawking at her from outside the doorway. She returned her eyes to Ward and spoke in almost inaudible Mandarin.

"_My name is _Mulan."


End file.
